A Hymn for Berryman
You marched into the gray eyes of dawn
feeling older than the bones
that held their ground
like grazing, aged cattle
waiting, eyes closed to the wind,
on a winter, slaughter morning.
You searched through the fog for a sign,
but there was no sun to burn the way,
no burst of rainbow bridge
to keep you from the cattle call.
Copyright Credit: Charles Ghigna, “A Hymn for Berryman” from Speaking in Tongues. Copyright © 1994 by Charles Ghigna. Reprinted by permission of Charles Ghigna.
Source: Speaking in Tongues (Livingston University Press, 1994)